


Black Eye

by your_taxidermy



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Black Eye, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_taxidermy/pseuds/your_taxidermy
Summary: tumblr request. I have not written x reader stuff in ages so I hope this is good <3





	Black Eye

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr request. I have not written x reader stuff in ages so I hope this is good <3

Jacob was still deciding on what to do with you, maybe you’d be a soldier, a Chosen, or he’d send you off to be an Angel.

He was still thinking. Either way, you’d grown fond of him. He wouldn’t admit it but he was starting to feel the same way about you, he didn’t have a great way of showing it but you got the idea. He stormed back into the gates of the VA center, his own man standing out of his way, trying their best not to catch his rage. He’d gotten into a scuffle, a bad one at that. So much the butt of a rifle hit him in the face, bloodying his lip and bruising his eye. He donned his wounds with pride, even if he was furious his vision would be impaired until the swelling went down. “Move,” he grunted as he shoved through the new Chosen who was standing guard to the main building.

You heard his heavy footsteps, they still scared you after all this time living here. He made you stay in his room when he wasn’t there so you didn’t try and escape, he’d find you anyway, drag you back by the ear and punish you as he saw fit. You were reading on his bed, the flat as hell pillow giving you some support, but his chest always served as a better headrest. He went into the room, making quick eye contact with you before washing the blood off his face and hands, spitting into the sink with little care. “Jake,” you started.

“Who gave you the black eye?” you didn’t mean to sound worried but you did, and he picked up on that, he always found it charming you worried so much about him, even after all you’ve done to fuck up the Project. You walked behind him, placing a tender hand on his back, rubbing up and down until he turned his head to look at you, bloodied and bruised to the bone. He smirked at your worried expression, he didn’t care he got hurt because he survived. He was strong.

“It’s not who, it’s what,” he replied, looking at the wound in the mirror. “Then WHAT was it?” you asked again, grabbing his shoulder to turn him towards you. Funny enough, he turned to you, towering above you, his stature was broad, strong. You couldn’t topple that man over.

“Butt of a rifle, sweetheart. Your buddies… this Whitetail Militia, yeah, they seem to do a better job using their guns as bats rather than shooting them.” Jacob chuckled at his own joke but you didn’t find it all too funny. “Well, are you okay? Are you wounded anywhere else? Gunshot? Shrapnel?” Fuck it, you were worried and nothing could change that.

“You’re cute when you’re all worried.” he was so proud of himself. If there’s one thing that boy could do, it was embarrassing the hell outta you. “Shut up! I’m not worried about you, jackass. I hope you die anyway.” You snapped, turning your back to him and walking away, arms crossed over your chest. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled you to him, it was effortless. “Wanna patch me, hun? I’m so tired after all that fighting.” It was clear he was being sarcastic but a part of your brain thought he meant it.

You wanted to believe he needed you. “Y-yes, of course, let me grab a first-aid kit.”

He laughed softly, almost like he was pleased you jumped to his aid so fast. “I’m kidding, but you’re so eager to help… it’s cute. But there ain’t much you can do for me, hun. No bullet wounds and I know you wish a bullet cracked my skull.”

Your eyes softened because you didn’t want that, that was the last thing you wanted…

“If that helps you sleep at night, Seed.” you smiled lightly, looking back at him. It was hard to hate him as much as you wished you did, something about him kept you close.

“Can I at least kiss that busted lip better?” you asked boldly, hoping you didn’t make a mistake asking that. Jacob grinned, doing the come hither motion. You went to him like a loyal pup and he mockingly tapped his lip, knowing you couldn’t reach him, even though you wanted to kiss him so badly. Once your lip pouted, he rolled his eyes, and ever so slightly hunched down and you kissed him, tasting his blood and dirt. 

“Healed already.”


End file.
